


The Triskelion Chronicles: Devils and Darkness

by LCVMurphy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, M/M, Original work - Freeform, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-11-23 09:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11399418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LCVMurphy/pseuds/LCVMurphy
Summary: In the small town of Ashen falls, Shadows from Hell claim mortal lives, And only three young students can stop them. Jack Nightly, and his two friends, Julie and Chris Daily will stop at nothing to save the town of Ashen falls, as well as themselves.But in a town with so many secrets, who knows who to trust?*This is the first draft of a planned novel, which will include a prologue, epilogue, and 20 chapters. All constructive criticism is welcome.( Seriously, give me feedback!!!)





	1. Return to Ashen-Falls

Prologue  
Thoughts are the shadows of our feelings - always darker, emptier and simpler  
-Friedrich Nietzsche

It began one night, deep in the bones of an old and forgotten building, rotted with the despair and suffering of the lost souls that had once lived there. An unnaturally tall figure loomed in its darkest parts, partaking in the darkest of rituals. Before the tall, cloaked figure, stood an old baptismal font, filled with the old, white bones of an unknown corpse. To the left of the font, drawn on the floor in chalk, was a five-pointed star with a burning candle placed at the end of each point. The figure took a nearby torch from off the wall and set ablaze the old bones. He waved his long, white hand over the torch and quenched its flame, leaving the bones and candles the sole source of light in seemingly infinite darkness of the room. He sat Himself in the centre of the pentagram, taking a long silver blade out and drawing it across his hand and letting his blood drip down onto the floor. The blood slithered across the old wooden floor boards, circling the unholy figure. He crouched back facing the macabre bonfire he had made, staring at the shadow he had cast against the wall, chanting in an ancient language forbidden from mortal tongues., his ragged voice chanting higher and lower, controlling the flames behind him. With each cursed word the shadow he cast grew larger and larger still. The ground shook and the walls groaned as the fires rose. The flames changed colour from blood red to icy blue, his chanting turned to yelling, and then finally screaming the words until the blood that had surrounded the creature began to boil. The shadow grew even larger.  
The light of the fire went out leaving only the dim glow of the candles. The dark figure lay exhausted on the floor, staring up at his shadow, cast against the wall with outstretched arms. The shadow began to manifest itself, crawling out from the wall, stumbling forward only to stop just in front of its master, staring back at him with shining white eyes.  
“Finally,” the pale man said, “Drakul shall be reborn.”

Chapter One: Return to Ashen-Falls

It’s often said that secondary school is Hell of earth for most students. In most cases that’s not meant to be taken literally.  
It had been over six months since Jack Nightly had attended Ashen-falls secondary school. It was a deafeningly silent car ride to the old cathedral like building, and only one thing had crossed Jack’s mind, was that terrible night in May.  
His sister Hazel had been gone for the night to go to fencing practice, and Jack had decided to go for a walk just as the sun was setting. He had said goodbye to his parents for the final time and, walked right out the front door.  
“You okay, bro?” his sister Hazel said, who had been driving the car at the time. Hazel Nightly had always been rather protective of her younger brother, as any older sibling would, even more so in recent months.  
“Yeah, Fine” he muttered in a monotone voice.  
He was not entirely aware of what had happened to him. The headlights burned his eyes as the car approached. “We found him” exclaimed his father.  
One look at the two siblings and it was unmistakable that they were brother and sister. They both shared the same raven black hair and crystal blue eyes, as well as a penchant for getting into trouble, but that was where the similarities ended. Where Jack was sullen, quiet and bookish, Hazel was outgoing, exuberant and incredibly street smart.  
“Look, I know it’s been hard on you since Mom and Dad died-” said Hazel. He flinched at the mention of his parents. “-it’s been hard on all of us”.  
He was limp and almost lifeless when his dad carried him into the car, just before it started to pour rain. His father had hurried him into the back seat and quickly rushed him to hospital.  
As the car pulled up to the school gates, the faceless hoard of students had at one point been an everyday sight, now were a sight that had instilled in him a great sense fear. All those anonymous voices, whispering, judging, no wonder he was afraid. “At least try to smile” Hazel said, to possibly try cheering her brother up. Jack had left silently closing the door behind him. “Wait!” Hazel exclaimed, handing her brother a pair of sunglasses that had fallen out of his pocket.  
“Oh! Thanks” he said, grateful that she saw them when she did.  
When Jack finally regained consciousness, he was being pulled from the car wreck along with both of his parent’s bodies. After tearing his way out of a black body bag and giving a poor medic a heart attack he ran home with a stabbing pain in his stomach and his upper jaw aching.  
“Well.” he thought. “It could be worse I guess. At least Hazel doesn’t know”. The raven-haired Vampire chuckled as he entered through the school gates, passing under an old, stone archway with the words “noli cedere cognoscere lit” carved onto it.  
* * *  
Beep…Beep… Beep… Julie Daily woke, staring at the electronic clock by her bedside. As she hit the silent button on her pink, unicorn adorned alarm clock, she read aloud “6:30? I can get a couple minutes more sleep”. She abruptly fell asleep, and woke again to the sound of her brother yelling.  
“JULIE! GET UP! WE’RE GOING TO MISS THE BUS!”  
She glanced back at her clock.  
“7:52!?”  
“AHHHHHH!” she screamed. Julie launched out of her bed and bolted to the bathroom, rushing through her morning routine as fast as humanly possible. She dragged a brush through her long, golden- blonde hair, brushing her teeth quickly and rinsing with a splash of water however taking ample time to do her makeup and properly choosing the perfect outfit for the day as she considered unfashionability the eighth deadly sin. She flung herself down the stairs landing catlike on the red carpeted floor just as her older brother, Chris handed her a freshly buttered slice of toast and a glass of orange juice.  
He was wearing a freshly ironed, red button down shirt, and a pair of blue jeans. “Drink this and let’s go. We are not going to be late on the first day of school!”  
“Right.”, she said with a spark of determination in her eyes.  
They spirited out the door chasing the school bus, only missing it by a matter of three seconds. “Dammit”, Julie said, “We’ll never make it in time”.  
“The Hell we won’t”, said Chris.  
It must have been a bizarre sight for any of the students on that old yellow school bus, to see a tall, lean, brown haired boy hoisting a small, blonde girl in his arms as if cradling an infant, and bolting down the footpath.  
It would be three days until the full moon, and Chris (being a Werewolf) would turn again. It was horrifying the first-time Julie had caught her brother shifting into his wolf-like form; however, in the passing months since then, she had gotten used to the idea. Fortunately, he would become a lot stronger and faster, than his usual brand of strength and speed during his “time of the month”.  
Despite his extremely above average attributes he couldn’t catch up with their school bus; that would take a miracle. Julie, on the other hand, considering herself an amateur Witch had a certain charm when it came to miracles.  
With a wave of her hand she willed the door of the school bus open, leaving Chris to leap in gallantly and stick the landing, in front of a good portion of the school population resulting in a round of applause from the bus. The two siblings took their seats without comment. As the two of them quietly took their place on the bus, completely breathless from the stunt they had just pulled, a young, blond boy who had tried and failed to hide his grin chuckled, “Nice landing, Chris”  
“Shut up, Owen.” he responded.  
“Well, at least we caught the bus”, said Julie  
“Always the optimist, sis.” said Chris, panting, but as soon as he could finish his sentence the bus stopped outside Ashen-falls secondary school. Chris and Julie stared at each other.  
“Next time,” said Julie, “we’ll just ask Mom for a lift to school”.  
“Agreed.”, said Chris, as his cheeks turned red.  
The old building loomed overhead with gothic spires pointed upwards toward the sky. The two children passed through steel gates, partially dreading the school year to come. The school had never been a comforting sight. On the contrary, it had been one of the most intimidating sights for the new first year students, let alone a fifth-year student like Julie or Chris. Ashen-falls high school had stood for nearly a century and a half and it seemed it would stand for many more years to come.  
The young duo had sat down on top of a nearby bench to relax before class began, just as Julie spotted an old friend lurking in the shade by the wall. A young boy with pale skin and wearing a plain black T-Shirt with a pair of blue jeans that Julie had to admit fit him pretty well. With the perfectly messy hair that partially obscured a pair of gleaming blue eyes, it could only have been one person.  
“Jack?” she said to herself. Thinking back to those times in the previous school year, of her brother mildly hinting at a crush towards the newly de-closeted emo kid in history class, and how Chris had stated he wished he was as brave as him. Chris had never come out to his sister, not really but it was doubtful he had to. The mention of his various male crushes had spoken for him. “OH, MY GOD, JACK!” she blurted out waving at him, beckoning him toward them and plotting to set her brother up, for his greatest nightmare; a date with Jack Nightly.  
Jack had been quite startled by the sight of the pretty blonde girl nearly bursting several blood vessels trying to get his attention. “JAAAAAACCCK!” she screamed, drawing the gaze of many nearby students. Jack had decided reluctantly to go over to her in an equally over the top manner, in hope to save her from humiliation.  
“JULIE! LONG TIME NO SEE!” he said in a convincingly excited manner.  
Julie screamed, rather appropriately, like an excited school girl, running into his arms squeezing the breath from his lungs. Or she would have if he had been breathing at the time. She had invited him over to sit with her, which he accepted. After all, she was an old friend.  
As Jack sat down, his blue eyes locked with the brown eyes of the tall, handsome and rather bashful looking young lad sat across from him. “Hey”, Jack introduced himself to the attractive young boy in front of him, only vaguely remembering the back of his head from history class last year. Jack was kicking himself for not being able to remember his name. “What was his name again?” he thought. “Colin, Connor?” He could not, for the life of him, think of his name.  
“Oh”, Julie interrupted “Jack, this is my brother Chris.”  
“Heh, well half-brother but still nice to meet you Jack” said Chris, fully aware of the awkwardness of the situation.  
“You too,” Jack said gingerly, and silently thanking the Gods above for Julie Daily. Julie seemed to notice something in the two boys’ voices that perhaps even they didn’t realise.  
“So, I’m going to go find Owen and annoy him. You two crazy kids have fun.” Julie said, winking at her brother as she left. Chris looked completely horrified. Jack had waited until she was safely out of earshot before speaking.  
“So… Julie and Owen, huh?” Jack said suggestively.  
“What do you mean?” said Chris.  
“Well,” said Jack “I mean, she said she’s going to “annoy” him. What do you think she meant?” Chris chuckled.  
“She means it literally; I think...” The taller boy sat there pondering his sister’s “annoying” exploits. “Do you have much experience annoying people?” he said, in a thinly veiled attempt at flirting.  
“Some,” Jack replied, “I’m trying to annoy this one guy right now.”  
“Any luck so far? Chris asked.  
“I don’t know. Is it working?” Jack said, in a deadpan manner, making Chris laugh.  
“So, what class do you have first?” Chris asked.  
“Umm...History, I think.” Jack answered.  
“Awesome. Me too” said Chris.  
The school bell sounded as a tall, slender woman with unkempt grey hair proceeded into the court yard. “Aright students, Bell means class. Get to it!” She screamed in an authoritarian tone. Both Jack and Chris looked visibly disgusted.  
“Ugh ...Miss Lear” Jack said, supressing his burning hatred for the woman.  
“She could at least say please.” Chris whispered to Jack.  
“Chivalry is dead.” Jack said, still staring daggers at Miss Lear.  
“So, if a handsome young gentleman chivalrously offered to escort you to class, you wouldn’t accept?” Jack turned his gaze to Chris.  
“How the hell did you come to that conclusion?” He said, getting up quickly, holding his arm out and waiting for Chris to escort him to class as promised. Much to Jack’s surprise Chris stood up and swiftly picked Jack up into his arms, carrying him like a baby.  
* * *  
As the two men entered the old classroom Jack, still being carried had noticed Julie talking to an exasperated looking Owen, sitting in the back row. Jack guided Chris in her general direction and was gently lowered into a spot down by her while Chris sat next to him.  
“Nice to see you two have hit it off” Julie said with a smirk. Owen, seeing his opportunity to escape, quietly snuck off to the front row of seats, as Chris whispered something to Julie that was quite unbecoming of a handsome, young gentleman.  
“So, who’s teaching history this year?” asked Jack, trying to diffuse the tension.  
“Well, apparently, some new guy is taking over from Miss Grace this year,” said Julie.  
“It should be fun.”  
At that moment, a tall man walked into the classroom, no more than thirty. He was wearing an old dark brown, knitted sweater vest, with a burgundy bowtie, a sensible pair of doc martins, and a plain black onyx ring, worn on his right hand. His hair was a dark brown, almost black, apart from a single white streak that ran across the right side of his head.  
He adjusted his glasses and slowly walked over to the chalkboard, writing his name on it neatly, and in cursive. “Good evening, class” He said in a soft, British voice. “My name is Mr. Solomon and I’m your new History teacher.” Mr. Solomon stared directly at Jack as if he knew him. Jack felt slightly unnerved by this, and yet…  
Class dragged on, as Mr. Solomon prattled on about ancient tyrannical rulers. Both Chris and Jack were relieved when the bell rang for the next class. As the three teenagers walked out of class they each commented on the strange, new teacher.  
“Thank God it’s over,” said Chris “if I had to listen to what Vlad Tepes did on his weekend off for another second I don’t think I would’ve made it”  
“Quit your whining Chrissy-fit, I thought it was kind of interesting.” said Julie.  
“Hey guys, is he from around here?” asked Jack.  
“No, I think he’s British” Julie remarked.  
“You know what I mean, Julie. Did he ever teach here before?” he said  
“I don’t think so, how come?” asked Chris.  
“He just kept looking over at me for the entire class.” Jack responded.  
“I’m pretty sure he may have seen our little entrance.” Chris added jokingly “But, yeah, he does seem kind of … weird.”  
Jack and Julie walked drudgingly toward the chemistry lab to face the notoriously sadistic Miss Lear, as Chris sauntered off to art class to face Miss Fey, a notoriously less sadistic teacher than Miss Lear, though that was not a difficult feat to accomplish.  
The two of them took their seats at the back of the Chemistry lab, as to avoid Miss Lear’s gaze. As the old bat slithered into the room, the entire class fell silent, waiting with bated breath, to see who her next victim would be. She eyed over the sea of students slowly, before her gaze fell on Julie in her bright pink attire and perfectly applied makeup.  
“My dear, if you want to dress like a circus clown, I am afraid that the train has already left town.” Miss Lear said. Her gaze shifted to the right, like an owl spotting its prey, landing directly on Jack. “Unfortunately Mister Nightly, they don’t take mimes” Clearly this comment was directed at his own attire. This comment, Jack took personally.  
“At least the snake charmer won’t be out of the job anytime soon.” Jack replied with a smug grin across his face.  
“Jack Nightly you are out of order” The old woman spat, “you will make your way to the principal’s office immediately”. Jack got up and quickly made his way out of the classroom as fast as he could, glad to be rid of her, at least for a little while.  
He only sat outside the principal’s office for five minutes when Julie walked up to him and sat down beside him. “Umm...” Jack said, trying to hide his smirk.  
“I got the entire class to start hissing whenever she turned her back” Julie boasted, “That’ll teach her to insult my style.”  
The office door creaked open, just as Principal Phelps walked out of his office. The fat old man took one look at Jack and sighed, only to turn his gaze over to Julie. “What are you two in for?” he asked still looking at Julie, and ignoring Jack.  
“Miss Lear-” Julie said before being cut off. Principal Phelps sighed again and muttered something about tenure.  
“Julie, you’re free to go.” he said before turning to Jack “As for you. Go to my office now.”  
There was a long period of silence and intense staring before Principal Phelps finally spoke. “You have been back one bloody day and already you’re causing trouble.” The mention of blood had made Jack’s stomach growl. The fact that he hadn’t fed all day, did not help. “Think of this as a warning, you’ll be serving detention after school with Miss Lear.” Jack protested, but was cut off at every word.  
“But-”  
“No”  
“That’s not-”  
“No”  
“This is completely-”  
“NO!”  
There was a pause before Jack finally spoke again. “What about Julie?”  
“What about her?” The old man asked.  
“You let her off without even asking her what she did!” Jack exclaimed.  
“Because she is a good kid and you are not. She does her homework, and doesn’t cause that much trouble.” he said, as if it were to mean something. Jack knew the real reason why he was being punished. It wasn’t because of his troublemaking, as Julie was arguably more inclined to mischief than him. It had often been said that Principal Phelps held certain disdain towards the more ‘flamboyantly inclined’ students.  
“Don’t you think it’s a bit small minded to put something as infinitely complex as a human being, into a simple binary morality of purely good or purely evil?” Jack asked, trying to get the grim old man to smile, though to no avail.  
“This is your only warning Jack. Stay out of trouble. Now get the hell out of my office.” Jack begrudgingly complied.  
As the young Vampire exited the office, he spotted Julie sitting outside. “What are you still doing here?” he asked.  
“Oh, I was just waiting for you. Plus, Miss Lear is a bitch.” she replied. “So, what happened?”  
“Well, detention seems like it’ll be fun.” said Jack.  
“Oh” said Julie. “Good luck.”  
* * *  
Chris entered the art room, looking for a place to sit. There were many free seats in the old classroom to choose from, but Chris picked the one in the middle of the room, nearer to the front, as he knew that Miss Fey had a habit of scribbling on the chalkboard, in very small handwriting. He sat patiently, waiting for class to begin.  
The room suddenly filled with students, quickly taking up all the remaining seats. A small, impish woman walked into the classroom with her hair tied back in a messy bun, carrying a large carpet bag filled with art supplies in one hand, and pulling along a small wagon with an old decrepit statue of a Chinese dragon on top of it. The ages had clearly been unkind to the piece, with moss draping over it and the golden paint that had once adorned it almost completely chipped away.  
“Hiya gang.” the young woman said, “It’s nice to see you back after the summer holidays. Now the fun really begins.” The class joyfully welcomed Miss Fey back, glad to have at least one of the few kind teachers, still retaining their previous teaching position.  
Miss Fey gleefully whipped out a giant mass of clay from the carpet bag, and slammed it down onto her desk. She shoved her hand into the mass and pulled out a chunk from it. “Before we start working, I would like us all to sculpt whatever we want from the clay I’m going to pass out.” She said, “Just to get the creative juices flowing.”  
As the class progressed, all the students were sculpting. They made model planes, gargoyles, puppy dogs and people, but Chris had taken on the task of trying to replicate the dragon statue that had been moved to the far corner of the room. “Excellent work,” Miss Fey exclaimed. “Great attention to detail too” Chris thanked her.  
“You know Chris, if you want to help out after school restoring the old statue I’d appreciate the help” she asked. Chris thought about it for a second before considering his sister.  
“I’ll have to ask Julie first” He said.  
* * *  
As detention dragged on Jack had one thing on his mind; blood. This was the usual time of the day that he would stop outside behind the butcher’s where he would spend what lunch money he could, for the leftover blood the butcher had stored for him, and was paid extra for discretion. Miss Lear was sitting at her desk, across from Jack, with a satisfied smile smeared across her face. The constant ticking was maddening.  
The only thing more maddening however, was his stomach growling. All he could focus on was his insatiable hunger for blood. Jack desperately tried to take his mind off the subject. He wondered how his friends were doing in the art room. He wondered how his sister was doing at her new job “come to think of it” he thought “What exactly does she do?” He hadn’t spoken to Hazel much since both of their parents had died. He then thought of his parents, and the fact that it had rained the day of their deaths. He looked out the window to see sunshine, and birds flying in a nearby tree. Strangely, he wondered if pigeons had feelings.  
God, he was bored.  
Miss Lear had appeared not to blink in the last ten minutes. He stared back at her, his eyes gaping open in a mocking way, and she didn’t even flinch. “SOMETHING HAPPEN!” he screamed inside of his head so loud that he thought Miss Lear might hear him. At that moment, there was a loud crashing sound coming from outside. Jack stood up quickly wondering what had happened. “Don’t you move an inch, boy.” she snapped. Miss Lear left the room to investigate as Jack sat back down.  
Then suddenly, he heard a piercing scream coming from outside. He bounded through the door, ignoring her order, and what he saw had stopped him dead in his tracks. He saw Miss Lear, standing in the middle of the hallway, mortified by the creature standing behind her, with its hand poking through her chest.  
It was horrifying. It pulled its hand through her chest and out her back leaving no physical mark. She collapsed to the floor, with the look of pure horror still frozen on her face. The sight of what had just transpired caused Jack to scream in terror. The living shadow that stood in front of him, looked wholly unnatural, like a silhouette of a skeleton, standing in plain daylight. Its white, starlight eyes pierced Jack’s soul. It vanished like a puff of smoke, dissipating into thin air leaving Miss Lear lying on the floor, dead. Jack stood there, completely silent. Jack had never exactly liked Miss Lear but he had to admit she never deserved this. He stared at the lifeless corpse, still in shock and disbelief of what had just happened.


	2. The Shadow

In the art room, Chris and Julie had just finished cleaning the old dragon statue using sponges and water, and had already started painting it in gold. Julie was covered with gold paint, and soaked with water. “I missed this” she said.   
Chris looked over to his sister “How come you dropped art. You seemed pretty  
good at it”.   
“It clashed with chemistry and I kind of need it for college” she responded.   
“Oh.” Chris stood silently, sad for his sister’s loss of artistic love.  
“So, how come you haven’t told Jack you love him yet?” she said.  
“I don’t love him; I just think he’s kind of cute.” Her brother replied.  
“Well,” she said. “Jack is currently with Miss Lear in detention, if you’re interested” Julie smirked when she noticed her brother’s ears perk at the mention of Jack. “I think he’s just kind of cute, my ass.” She thought.  
The two continued on painting until, suddenly they heard an ear piercingly loud shriek, followed shortly by a scream of pure terror.  
They dropped all that they were doing, and bolted through the door to where they heard the screams. The only thing running through Chris’s mind was who it was that could be screaming. The only other people in the school were Jack and Miss Lear in room 18. “Oh God.” he thought. His mind rushed to the worst possible thing that could have happened, and he wasn’t far off. Chris and Julie stood there in shock as Jack had begun compressions on an unconscious Miss Lear.   
“CALL THE AMBULANCE!” Jack yelled, however Julie had already taken her phone out of her jacket pocket. All Chris could do at this point was watch as the scene unfolded. He felt crushingly useless. Just then, he heard a faint footstep coming from down the hall. His ears twitched. Chris had known that the only teacher that had still been in school was Miss Lear, and she wasn’t exactly walking around right now.   
As Julie was talking to the paramedics over the phone, and Jack was applying C.P.R. to Miss Lear, Chris had started to follow the sound of the mysterious footsteps. As the sound of the footsteps became louder and faster Chris began bursting into a sprint, giving chase, only to stop outside the school library. He hesitated just outside the doors and thought of whom it was that he was hunting down. It could have been the janitor for all he knew. However, the janitor should have left over an hour ago.   
He bit his lip nervously as he pushed through the library doors, only to discover that the room was completely empty. He stood there in disbelief “What the Hell?” he whispered to himself. Chris was about to turn around to leave, until he focused his hearing to double check if he was actually alone. He wasn’t. Chris’s mind filled with panic; because whoever it was that he was chasing, was standing directly behind him. He turned around sharply, only to come face to face with him.  
* * *

Jack and Julie had finally finished talking to the paramedics as they carted off Miss Lear, in a body bag. “Cardiac arrest” they called it, but Jack was not prepared to tell them the truth. He was still in shock from the ordeal, but what shocked him the most was the face of the creature that had killed the old woman, plain, and featureless, and black. When he closed his eyes, he could still see its white eyes staring back at him, into his soul.  
“Where’s Chris?” asked Julie.   
“What?” said Jack; he was so preoccupied that he hadn’t even noticed Chris was there to begin with.  
Almost immediately they both heard a crashing sound coming from down the hall. The two of them ran down the corridor as fast as they could, until they came outside the library. Even from the outside they could tell the place was trashed. They slowly opened the doors and found Chris, suspending Mr. Solomon by the lapels, and pinning him to the wall  
. “CHRIS, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” exclaimed Julie.   
“For God’s sake Chris, put him down!” ordered Jack. Chris did as he was bid almost immediately “Sorry, I... He was running away and I-”, his voice caught.   
Mr. Solomon was grasping to get to his feet just as Jack grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him against the desk.  
“First you give me stalker eyes and now you stay back after school just to sneak around, while Miss Lear dies. Talk Now! And no lies, I’ll know.” This sudden change of tone shocked everyone in the room, especially Mr. Solomon. “Alright, I’ll confess!” he yelled. “I’m an agent of the Harker organisation, I’ve been watching over you ever since you were turned into a Vampire, and I’ve been researching demonic activity in Ashen-Falls.” The sudden dump of information both surprised and confused the three students.   
“Wait” said Julie, “Jack is a Vampire?” She spoke in a tone that sounded less surprised than Jack had anticipated.   
A smile slowly grew across her face, before quickly fading into a look of curiosity. “If you’re a Vampire, why didn’t you burn to death in the sunlight?” she asked.  
Chris stopped her, “Oh my God, Julie! You can’t just ask people why they don’t burn to death in sunlight.” And she quickly apologised.  
“It’s alright” said Jack, “I guess I just sort of don’t. But my eyes kind of hurt though.” Julie looked as if she was about to burst with delight “Well, Chris is a Werewolf, if you want to know, and I’m a Witch.” she said excitedly.   
“That actually explains a lot.” Jack said. He wasn’t exactly sure how he should have felt at that moment. It was a mixture of both relief, and confusion, that she hadn’t run screaming at the news that her childhood friend was currently “Not quite living”. Jack’s mind was rampant with questions. If Werewolves and Witches existed, what else was out there? The world was a big place, and now seeming to be even bigger as the day carried on.  
“What‘s the Harker organisation?” Chris asked, looking toward Mr. Solomon.  
“They’re … uh… we’re a secret organisation that protects the mortal population from supernatural threats.” Mr. Solomon said proudly. “Now, can you let me up?”  
Jack pulled him to his feet before saying “A creepy “shadow-demon-thing” killed Miss Lear, if you’re here to protect mortals, you’re not doing a great job so far.”  
“I know, I failed,” said Mr. Solomon. His voice dropped. “And I am sorry, but we can still stop it.”   
“We?” said Jack.  
“Yes, we.” said Mr. Solomon. The three students looked over at their history teacher perplexed, as he climbed a ladder to the second floor of shelves above them, bounding up each rung like a child, on Christmas day.  
Mr. Solomon pulled a massive book from the top of the restricted section. The book was as tall as it was long, and twice as thick with pages. He seemed to struggle with the weight of it, but managed nonetheless to carry it down the ladder, only to slam it on the circular table in front of him.   
The book was old; very old. The cover of was a patchwork of many different animal skins, some of which seemed unnatural, such as the large black scales running down along the spine of the book. On the cover, sewed on in red, was a five-pointed pentagram. And at the centre, was what appeared to be a closed eye.  
“This is the book of the undying” said Mr. Solomon, “It details the majority of the supernatural world.” His voice was grim, and solemn.  
“But, what does this have to do with us?” asked Jack, resentfully. He had hardly wanted to see that ‘thing’ earlier, and now that he was being dragged into this insane world, he was even more reluctant.  
“You described a “shadow-demon-thing” earlier?” said Mr. Solomon, as he turned the pages of the book. He had not lied about the detailed descriptions of the supernatural world. The pages flipped past quickly, showing numerous types of supernatural creatures from Cambions and Pixies, to Kitsunes and Basilisks, until it finally landed on the page detailing the shadow creature. “The Tantibus Demon-” Mr. Solomon said, “The perfect assassin.”   
At the top right of the page, there was an artist’s interpretation of what the creature looked like, along with a passage that read “Beware the Tantibus Demon, the perfect assassin. It leaves no trace of its presence and leaves no mark upon the victim. In the event that you should encounter this beast, make peace with your Gods, as no weapon forged by the hands of mortal men can bring harm to it. Avoid at all costs!”   
Jack stared down at the pages of the book in shock. “That’s the thing that killed Miss Lear.” He said  
“And you saw It.” said Mr. Solomon. His eyes were wide with disbelief.  
“So, what?” said Jack.  
“You SAW it Jack! That means it let you see it. The whole point of having a Shadow kill people is that it is almost never seen. If you saw it, I’d wager that means that the Tantibus, or whoever summoned it, wanted you to see Miss Lear die.” Those words shook the young man to the core.   
“But...why?” he asked.   
“I don’t know, but whoever summoned this creature must have been using an awful lot of blood-magic in order to do so, and I doubt that we’ve seen the last of it.” Mr. Solomon’s voice was grave. “I believe the creature may have killed Miss Lear, to get your attention, Jack. Though, I don’t believe they wanted to kill you.”  
The mere idea of having to face this, Shadow-thing again was enough to make Jack’s stomach knot. It was bad enough having to watch it kill a woman that admittedly, he hated, but to watch it kill someone else, someone he might hold dear, was infinitely worse.  
Jack’s mind suddenly went to think of his parents, who had died only months earlier, and then to his sister. If this Demon wanted to get to him, killing Hazel would be the best way to do it. He also thought of Chris and Julie, also becoming victims. His mind began to flood with the faces of his entire loved ones. However, what happened next caught everyone off guard.   
Jack’s chest had begun to tighten as if it were being crushed under a great weight. If his heart had been beating, it would have been racing. His arms and legs began to tingle, like he was being stabbed with a thousand, tiny needles. Everything had almost begun to go dark, as a sudden sense of doom washed over him. Jack had taken first aid classes and could easily recognise what was happening to him; he was having a panic attack.  
His awareness of the situation did nothing to help him tough, as he ran out the door of the library, and bolted in a random direction. He was terrified, like his body was being controlled by some outside influence.   
When Jack had stopped running he had found himself in an old classroom filled with paintings, sketch pads and a large clay dragon statue standing in the corner. The statue had only been half painted. Jack could not keep himself standing any longer as a wave of dizziness hit him. He dropped to the floor, only keeping himself up with his arms, crouching. At that moment, Chris and Julie slowly entered Miss Fey’s classroom.  
* * *

Jack had been crouching on the floor, panting for breath, and in a state of panic. Chris quietly walked over to Jack, being cautious not to upset the Vampire. Chris admittedly, was just as afraid of Jack, at this moment, as Jack was in general.  
Chris knelt gently, face to face with him. “Jack, look at me” Chris said. But Jack had not responded. “Jack” he said again “Look at me.” This time the young Vampire looked up. To Chris’s surprise, Jack’s once beautiful, blue eyes had turned a horrifying blood red. Chris remained completely calm at this, as he, being a Werewolf, was not one to judge. “You’re alright” he said, “You’re going to be fine”. Jack looked at him like a cornered animal.  
“No” Jack said franticly “No, it’s not okay.” It was clear he was in a state of panic. When Jack spoke, Chris could see a pair of razor sharp fangs poking out of his mouth.   
“Please believe me Jack, you are not in any danger.” said Chris.   
Suddenly Jack fell silent. His eyes faded from red and back to blue while his fangs retracted. His panting had stopped as he was staring at Chris with an open mouth and a shocked expression. “Your eyes” Jack said finally.  
For a second, Chris was not aware of what he was talking about. That was, until he realised that his own eyes had transformed, from his usual dark brown, to glowing yellow. Chris began to creep up to his feet. “Like Julie said, I’m a Werewolf.” Chris held out his hand and as Jack took it, he slowly rose as well.   
“Okay, I think I’m good now” said Jack. They both slowly got to their feet “I just need a second.” Chris put his arm around him “It’s alright.” Chris’s voice made Jack feel strangely safe at this moment. They walked over to Julie who had been standing by the dragon statue. She pulled a chair out from under a desk and propped it up against the wall. Chris sat Jack down on the chair. “So, you’re a Witch, right?” Jack said. “Kind of, I’m getting there.” said Julie. “Oh” muttered Jack.  
“Can I get you anything?” asked Chris. “No, I’m good.” Jack responded. He waited a few seconds before speaking again.  
“It’s not going to stop, is it?” he asked.  
“No, I don’t think so.” said Chris solemnly.  
“Shit.” Jack cursed. He looked over at the two siblings, with fearful expression on his face. “That means it might be coming for you guys too, right?”   
Chris and Julie looked towards each other. “Yeah, probably” said Chris. He was probably more scared of the shadow Demon, than Jack was. It was clear that what the creature wanted was not Jack’s death. All Jack had to worry about was watching his loved ones die. But Chris however, was scared for both Julie’s life as well as his own. “But we’ll beat it.” Chris promised.   
“Or die trying” Jack added, sarcastically. The joke had made both Chris and Julie laugh. “That’s probably more likely, but let’s stay optimistic.” said Chris.   
“Uh, guys” Julie said “That’s a nice sentiment and all but how are we going to kill the thing. It’s literally a shadow.” The three fell silent. They had never considered what they were going to do if they confronted the Tantibus. The prospect of dying was becoming more and more likely.   
“I think I may know a way.” said Mr. Solomon as he sauntered into the classroom, proud as a lion.  
“Are you going to tell us, or are you just going to leave us in suspense?” said Jack.   
Mr. Solomon looked rather embarrassed at the bluntness of his comment. “Oh, um, well, I know someone who may have the knowledge of how to dispose of the Tantibus.”  
Julie looked at him disappointedly. “Well what’s his name then.” she asked. “How do you know it’s a man?” he said smugly.   
“So, it’s a woman?” Julie responded.   
“Well, no he’s a man but-” Chris quickly interrupted him “For Christ’s sake man, just tell us his name.”   
“The Count,” Mr. Solomon said the name in such a way that seemed as if he was uttering the name of the Devil himself.  
“Who’s he?” asked Julie.   
“He is one of the most powerful and feared men in the entire world.” Everyone’s faces suddenly dropped. “It should also be said, that he may be immortal.”  
The Count; the name carried an heir of sophistication. The image of a man in rich, elaborate clothing and fine jewellery, with a menacing glare, entered Julie’s mind.  
“He is holding a gala tomorrow night for anyone who is of a supernatural predisposition. There, I will make a trade of one of my old artefacts in exchange for information and possibly, a way to destroy the Tantibus.”   
Jack looked at the older man worryingly. “And what if he isn’t helpful?” he asked.   
“Then God help us all.” said Mr. Solomon.  
With that sentence, the three of their hearts sank.


	3. Respite

The sun was setting as Jack entered through his home door. He hesitated just before turning the handle. How could he explain to Hazel what had happened? Should he mention the shadow, the new history teacher, and his curious new friends? Eventually he pushed through the door, so he could face the music. Hazel was standing in the middle of the sitting room, crossed armed and furious. “Where the Hell have you been?” She demanded an answer. The look of horror was clear on Jack’s face. “Well?” she asked again.  
“At school.” he said, spitefully. “You got detention again, didn’t you.” said Hazel. She had anticipated that Jack would be given detention, with Jack it was almost a certainty. But she never thought he would be given detention on his first day back.   
“Wasn’t my fault.” he replied.   
“When isn’t it?” Hazel turned her back to her brother. “Can you not be so stupid next time? You’ve been back to school for one day, and you already got in trouble.” Hazel had been smothering Jack with attention in the days since their parent’s death, and she has not been letting up. “I’m sorry, ‘mom’, I wasn’t thinking, I won’t do it again.” His words where dripping with sarcasm. Hazel turned her head, looking back at her bother in disgust. “WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!” she screamed at her brother. “What’s my problem?!” he said, “Where the Hell do I begin?!”  
His mind raced back to the day he had at school. He had contemplated telling his sister all about his eventful day, and how satisfying it would be. Suddenly he thought better of it. “Tell me Jack, what is your problem.” Her voice bred only contempt. “You know what, never mind.” he said, trying to drop the subject. “Typical.” Hazel muttered. She began to storm off down to her room, only to stop at the corner of the hall way.  
“Tomorrow, I’m going on a trip to New York,” she said solemnly. “I probably won’t be back for a few days. I just thought I should tell you that.” She then walked quietly down to her bedroom, gently closing her door. The news sent a shock down Jack’s body. The fact that she was leaving should have meant relief, that she would be far away from the horror that was about to unfold. However, it made him feel isolated, like an iceberg floating away on its own.  
He quietly walked down to his bedroom, and opened his bedroom door. The room was a mess, filled with many band memorabilia, books, comics and video games. Not to mention, his ‘collectable’ action figures. He collapsed onto his bed, not from physical fatigue, but from being emotionally drained. He stared up at his various ‘emo band’ posters and thought, “What the fuck happened to my life.” He lay there, on his bed for at least an hour, trying to fall asleep and failing miserably. He checked the time on his phone. “8:12” he read. Eventually, he closed his eyes and began to fall asleep, and when he slept; he dreamt.  
His sister Hazel had been gone for the night to go to fencing practice, and Jack had decided to go for a walk just as the sun was setting. He had said goodbye to his parents for the final time, and walked right out the front door.   
He had been walking his usual rout, through the woods and past the old cemetery. Until he noticed that the sun was setting, and darkness began to engulf the sky. He decided to turn around and double back to head home to his family, until suddenly; he heard a noise coming from deep within the trees, a sound of twigs snapping. A tall dark figure loomed between the branches. He bolted into a sprint, his heart was racing and his breath was heavy. Until suddenly, they weren’t. His heart was no longer racing and he no longer drew breath. A pair of glowing red eyes shone through the darkness, piercing his soul.  
He jumped up from his bed, with a cold sweat running down his face. He rose slowly, taking out his phone to check the time “8:17”. It had only been five minutes. Jack grew restless. He decided that it wasn’t THAT late, and his mind turned to Chris. “I wonder what he’s up to” he thought to himself. He opened his bedroom window and quietly snuck out. He thought he’d be back before Hazel would notice.  
As he rolled out the window, Hazel was packing her things in the next room over. She only took what she absolutely necessary for her trip to New York, three pairs of jeans, four shirts, a toothbrush with toothpaste, her prized fencing rapier, boiled leather armour, and a long silver dagger.  
* * *

The sun had already set by the time Julie and Chris had gotten home. As they walked through the front door, they greeted their mother, Harmony. She brushed back her long blonde hair out of her face. “Hey guys.” she said joyfully. “How was school?”   
The two siblings lied and said, “It was fun.” Their mother didn’t need to know the exact details of the day.   
“There’s chicken casserole in the fridge if you’re hungry.” Chris’s stomach growled at the thought of his mother’s chicken casserole. Chris and Julie looked towards each other, “DIBS” they both exclaimed, as they bolted towards the fridge.   
As the two siblings leapt for the casserole Chris let out a grateful “Thanks Harmony.” He had never felt comfortable calling her mom, as she wasn’t actually his mother. However, she treated him as any mother would treat a child, and loved him as equally as his half-sister Julie.  
There was a glorious battle with many casualties. It lasted for many moons and finally resulted in a ceasefire, with the two sides finally agreeing to split the chicken casserole. After the joyous feast the two children retired to their bedrooms.  
“Admit it.” Julie said to her brother.   
“Admit what?” said Chris. He had found himself daydreaming yet again.  
“That you got a crush on Jack.” She was looking at him with a smirk. It was clear to Chris that Julie was meddling in something that she had no business in. This was, in fact, the story of her life. “I don’t have a crush on Jack.” said Chris. Julie shot him a sceptical look.   
“Sure, you don’t,” she said sarcastically, “And pigs don’t fly.” Julie waved her hand and, using her magic, caused a nearby plush pig to fling through the air, smacking Chris in the side of his head and landing on her desk, knocking over a picture of them from when they were children. He shot her a look, and then sighed. “Heh… sorry” said Julie.  
Chris let out a chuckle and promptly picked up the fallen photo. In the photo, he saw Julie at her sixth birthday party, with her face covered in strawberry cake. He smiled as he placed it back on her desk. “You loved that strawberry cake.” He said.   
“I still love that strawberry cake,” she replied. “But seriously, you like him though, don’t you?” Chris looked at Julie, and said nothing. “Oh, come on. Just admit it!” she exclaimed.   
“No.” he snapped. “I DO NOT LIKE HIM!” Julie sat on her bed, extremely disappointed in her brother. She stared at him, sure of what he truly wanted.   
“Yes, you do.” she said. Chris fell on her bed, and sighed while covering his face with his hands.   
“OKAY! I LIKE HIM!” he yelled. He would have continued if it wasn’t for the rustling sound, coming from outside the bedroom window.  
* * *

The late-night air was cool against Jack’s face. Even though his body temperature had dropped significantly since he was turned, he still knew how peaceful the cold night’s wind could be. It was a long time since he had been out for a walk after dark and now, he suddenly began to question why he had ever stopped. He stood by a nearby tree and leaned up next to it. He closed his eyes and, just listened. When he stopped, he finally felt something, he felt peace. He breathed in, and when he breathed out, it was as if all his problems began to leave him. He no longer needed to breathe, but sometimes, it helped.  
Off in the distance, he heard a voice, it was hard to make out. Jack, at this point, had not gotten used to his new abilities. After he was sired into being a Vampire, he felt as if it was one of the worst things to happen to him however, there were some benefits, such as more sensitive hearing. He followed the voice until it became clearer.   
“Admit it.” the voice said. He almost did not recognise the voice at first, it was extremely familiar, until he realised whom it was.   
“Julie?” he thought. He ran over to the source of the voice. “Julie’s place,” He thought to himself, as he arrived.  
He came across a white painted fence that ran across the house. As he pulled himself up, over the fence he spotted a nearby trellis, covered in ivy. Seeing his opportunity, he climbed the vines, up toward the light, beaming from the closed window, and trying not to be caught. When he made it to the window, what he found had astounded him. He found Chris, the brown eyed wonder, lying on the floor, screaming. “OKAY! I LIKE HIM!” Jack had pondered who it was he was talking about, before it dawned on him; he was talking about him! He actually liked him! Jack’s heart fluttered with excitement. He rested his head on some nearby vines, as Chris’s head perked up. “Something’s out there.” said Chris. It was at that moment that Jack realised, he had been spotted. In hindsight, it may not have been a good idea to climb up to the window.  
“Oh, hi Chris” Jack said, extremely embarrassed.  
“Um, Jack, what are you doing outside my window at night?” asked Chris. In truth, Jack had no answer, apart from ‘he wanted to see him’.   
“Um…It’s because you haven’t invited me in yet”. Chris looked at Jack, with both their faces turning red, Jack’s from being perceived as an accidental stalker, and Chris for suddenly realising that Jack had probably heard what he said.  
“Is that an actual thing, you know, for Vampires?” asked Chris.  
“It’s the most random thing,” said Jack “some things that you think are bullshit, like having to be invited into houses and getting burned by crosses, are totally true. But other stuff like garlic and sunlight are completely fine.” Chris laughed. “Well then, come on in.” he said.  
Jack climbed through the window, tumbling through, and landing on his face. “Is the thing about Vampires being super sneaky and graceful true?” Julie asked, jokingly.  
“Apparently not” said Jack, lying on the floor, trying to preserve what little dignity he had. As Jack got to his feet, the lights began to flicker, His eyes glowing red in the quick flashes of the dark.   
“Well that was ominous” said Julie.  
“Which part?” said Jack, “The flickering lights, or my freaky glowing eyes?”   
Julie laughed. “A little bit of both actually.” said Chris. When Chris smiled, it was almost as if his eyes began to gleam. When the two boy’s eyes met, the emotion was palpable.  
“Well I’d hate to break up this lovely moment but this is my room.” As much as Julie loved to see the love blossoming in front of her, she thought that they should get a room of their own instead.  
“Right.” Jack said, as he grabbed Chris’s arm. He took the young wolf out through the window. “I’ll bring him back before midnight!” he said, with a smile, wide across his face.  
“Bring him back before eleven!” Julie yelled. She watched as her older brother was whisked away by her childhood friend.  
“Ah, young love.” she whispered to herself.  
* * *  
There were many urban legends surrounding the pale woods, as there were many urban legends surrounding Ashen-falls in general. Some told stories of lost souls, trapped within the chalk white bark that had comprised most of the woods. Others spoke of dark things, stalking through the branches. Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, Ghosts, all completely ridiculous of course.  
The two young boys had been walking through the woods, embracing the night’s cool wind. The crows were flying through the leaves. Their wings were black, against dark skies. “You’re taking the whole ‘Vampire’ thing pretty well.” said Jack. Chris looked toward Jack, while walking past a twisted old tree.  
“Well,” said Chris, “You’re taking the whole ‘Werewolf’ thing pretty well too.” Jack stopped dead in his tracks.   
“Good point.” He said. “But, like Vampires are killers, I mean … I could kill you.” Chris glanced at him as if he had said the most adorable thing imaginable.   
“Yeah, you could kill me.” He said, in a matter of fact way. “So, could any other person on this planet, so could a dog, so could a very dedicated woodpecker. You’re not particularly special in that regard.” Jack blushed.  
“I could, though.” He whispered to himself, jokingly. “I am the night.” The two boys stood, looking out across a still blue lake, listening to the water rippling with fish, and the wind rustling through the trees.  
“It is beautiful.” said Chris, taking a deep breath, “So how old are you, exactly?” he asked.   
“Seventeen” said Jack.   
“How long have you been seventeen?” Chris asked again.   
“About four months,” Jack answered, “It’s been really trippy.” he said, laughing.   
“Really?” said Chris.  
Jack turned to him, “Yeah, the funny thing about it was, at first I didn’t know what was happening to me. I went online, searching symptoms like headaches, aversion to sunlight and churches, and craving blood, but all I got was ‘You are a Vampire’.” Chris let out a laugh.  
“How did your parents react?” he said. Jack looked away, turning his gaze to the lake, staring at his own reflection.  
“They um...” his voice broke off. Jack had used to go walking in those woods, almost every day after school. He had never felt comfortable walking there after the accident. One day he had tried to walk through the woods, but every time he walked past the lake and saw his reflection, his stomach would knot. Chris stared at him, the young Vampire with despair in his eyes.  
“Hey,” said Chris, “Are you alright?” The realisation suddenly began to dawn on Chris, “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I forgot”. Jack was still staring at the lake, his reflection rippling with the water.   
“Yeah” he said blankly, answering his previous question, “Are you alright?” The look in Jack’s eyes was all too familiar.   
“Listen, I know what you’re going through.” said Chris Jack looked up at him. “Well, mostly because I’m kind of going through it right now.” Jack smiled at him, before his face dropped again.  
“This isn’t about the shadow” he said.   
“I know” said Chris.   
Jack looked up at him again. “What?”   
“My dad died a couple years ago. He got hit by a car.” Chris said sullenly.   
“Oh, my God,” said Jack “I never knew, Julie never-” he paused.  
“Yeah, she wouldn’t.” said Chris. “She wouldn’t want to make it anyone else’s problem.”  
“Oh,” said Jack. What did he mean by “anyone else’s problem”?  
“Oh, n-not that it...it means anything-” Chris had decided not to finish his sentence but Jack thought that his awkward apologies were adorable.  
He pulled the taller boy closer. Their lips almost brushed, only for Chris to pull away suddenly. “What’s wrong?” Jack asked. Chris looked as if he was a deer, staring down the headlights of an oncoming car.  
“It’s um... well uh...” Jack knew exactly what he was thinking.   
“First time kissing a guy?” he said. Chris began to blush.  
“Um...yeah...” Chris said shyly.  
“It’s alright, if you don’t feel comfortable with it, you don’t have to-” Jack’s sentence was interrupted by Chris, as his lips were pressed against his own. Chris’s heart began to flutter, and Jack could hear it. Chris held Jack’s face in his hands as they melted into each other’s embrace. The two boy’s lips met, under the starlit sky, as the moon was nearing its fullest phase.  
* * *

Julie had sat down near the kitchen table, hot cocoa in hand. “I bet they’re probably kissing right now.” she said.  
“Who?” Her mother, Harmony said.  
“Chris and Jack” said Julie. “Or as I am going to start calling them ‘crack’.” Harmony turned, with her long golden hair swaying.  
“Please don’t call them that.” she said.  
“Why?” said Julie  
. “Because it’s just plain weird.”   
Julie sipped from her cup of cocoa, “It’s too late. The ship has sailed.” Julie smiled into her mug, satisfied with her pun.   
“I don’t get it.” her mother said.  
“No one ever does.” Julie muttered.  
Her mind was racing with thoughts and fantasies of Chris and Jack’s wedding. Jack would be waiting at the top of the church, as Chris, wearing a white suit, would waltz up the aisle. “Wait, would they even be in a church? Jack being a Vampire and all.” she thought. Julie was pulled from her dream by her mother.   
“Does Chris know that I know that he is Gay?” The older woman asked.  
“No,” Julie said, “It’s not your place to know until he tells you himself. DO NOT ROB HIM OF HIS MOMENT!” Harmony gave her daughter a look of extreme exasperation.   
“Then why did you tell me?” she said.   
“Like you didn’t already know?” the younger girl said.   
“I’ve raised that boy from birth, of course I know. There isn’t a thing going on in this house that I don’t know.” said Harmony. Julie smirked at the irony of the statement. “But telling me isn’t helping anyone if I’m not supposed to know.”   
“You had a right to know.” she said.  
“But you had no right to tell.” Her mother scolded her. “He should tell me when he is ready.”  
“Yeah, but he told me.” She replied. Harmony’s eyes filled with a righteous fury.  
“Then you shouldn’t be telling people his secret.” Julie had been finishing her drink. Only when she placed her mug on the table did she speak.  
“Sorry, mom.” she said. Harmony picked her mug up from the table, and gently placed it over by the kitchen sink. Even when she was angry, Harmony still gave off an heir of grace.  
“You shouldn’t be apologising to me.” She walked over to the staircase. “You can clean up here, as punishment.”  
“What!” Julie exclaimed.   
“Or, I guess, I could tell Chris where I found out about him and Jack.” said Harmony  
Julie’s eyes narrowed. “You. Are. Evil.” she said. Her mother left, ascending the stairs, and laughing manically.   
Julie sighed “This is so unfair.” she muttered to herself. She glanced over at the nearby clock on the wall. It read, “11:46”.   
“They’re late” she thought to herself. As she moved the plates, and cups, and dishes into the dishwasher, she wondered if Chris was having any better luck. “Of course, he is.” she thought to herself. Julie moved each plate into the machine, as she reached the last cup; she had decided it would be a good idea to practice magic.  
She placed the cup on the kitchen table and closed her eyes. She raised her right arm, and began to focus. In the darkness of her mind she was alone. Julie had done this sort of thing many times, to varying degrees of success. She was free to imagine anything that could help her harness her power, so she envisioned a fire. The fire inside her grew larger and larger, encompassing all of her. Julie’s soul was burning with the rage of the flames. She felt her skin tingle with the heat of her magic. When she opened her eyes, she saw the cup, floating in the middle of the kitchen. She was ecstatic, until the cup began to wobble.   
“Alright,” she thought, “I just have to stay focused.” As she slowly levitated the cup over to the dishwasher, the lights began to flicker. “Again? Someone should fix the lights in this house.” The cup almost fell out of the air, before being caught, Inches from the floor. “Stay focused” she told herself. However, it was impossible to stay focused, as the lights went out, through the entire house. The cup dropped to the floor, shattering on its impact. “Crap.” She said.   
When the lights flickered on again, Julie’s heart jumped, as the air left her lungs in a piercing shriek. What was in front of her was the stuff of nightmares. The Tantibus Demon.   
Its appearance was as blood-curdling as the old book in the library had depicted. The pitch-black silhouette was inches away from her face. The most chilling part of the creature’s body was its face, it was completely absent of detail, apart from its glistening white eyes, like two stars in the middle of a cold, dark night. It uttered a noise that could only be described as halfway between a groan and a shriek.  
Julie staggered backwards, raising her hands to defend herself, even though she knew it was futile. Julie let out another scream, so loud that it surely would have waked half the neighbourhood. The creature reached out its arm and quickly thrust it into her chest. She felt a cold grip around her heart, as if she were being stabbed with a dagger made of ice. The absolute fear and terror she felt in that moment was completely overwhelming. An ice-cold bullet shot down her spine and her skin, all over, felt as if it were being stabbed by a million tiny needles. Her head felt like it was about to explode. She was not sure if she was feeling this way because of the intense fear she felt, or an effect of her heart slowly shutting down. She tried to scream once again, but when she opened her mouth, no sound came from it, only a cold breath. Her eyes began to go black, as the colour faded from the world. The last thing she saw was the blank face of the shadow, leering over her. Then, she saw a bright light, as her hands felt, strangely warm.   
“Was this the bright light that people saw when they die?” she thought. She felt light, as if she were flying. Suddenly she found herself lying on the floor, landing with a thud. She felt as if she were dying.  
When she opened her eyes, she saw the shadow was wheeling, and writhing in pain. It was amazing. Light of all colours was blazing across the room, like a beautiful fireworks-display. Julie wondered what kind of creature could possibly cause the Demon so much torment, and what it would do to her. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she discovered exactly what creature was responsible; she was.  
She found herself on her feet. The light was blazing from her finger tips. Her hands felt like they were on fire, but she did not care. She felt great, and powerful, and terrible. Her heart was racing. It was beating at a million miles an hour. The golden light engulfed her, as the Demon recoiled into the corner of the room. The shadow was screeching in pain, and fear. “SCREEEEEEEEEE” The sound was piercing.  
The Heavenly light that had once surrounded her had begun to dim, slowly revealing the cowering Demon. Once the Demon saw her, it began to dissipate, like ink spreading out into a jar of water, only in reverse. Julie’s flesh was still tingling with power as her mother raced down the stairs.   
“Julie?” Harmony said, sounding concerned. “Are you alright? What was all that noise?” In truth, Julie was dazed and astounded by what had just happened, though only barely able to think straight.   
“I don’t know,” she said. “The radio just went berserk!” Harmony’s face began to calm, only until she glanced to the floor, and saw the broken mug that Julie had been practicing on. The older woman sighed.  
“Can you just please, clean up this mess and go to bed.” She looked exhausted.  
“On it, mom.” said Julie, cheerfully. As Harmony slumped back up the stairs, Julie lay there on the kitchen floor, panting.


	4. The Grand Glamourous Gala

Julie had not slept that night, and, as the two boys had so kindly pointed out, it had showed quite obviously. She had bags under her eyes, twice as big as the one on her back. After the night that she had, it was doubtless that anyone would sleep after such an experience. The image of the Tantibus was burned into her mind. Its pitch-black features, it’s piercing eyes, and of course, it’s freezing grip on her heart. Despite her fatigue, Julie was determined to get through the day.  
Throughout the entire morning, Jack and Chris were inseparable. Their outward affection had garnered a lot of attention from students and teachers alike. Julie had hoped to get her brother and childhood companion together; however, she had not anticipated that it would have been so easy.   
Once the three amigos entered the history classroom, they had found it was completely empty, and Mr. Solomon was nowhere to be seen. “Anyone know where he is?” Jack asked Chris.   
“No idea.” He said, gazing into his eyes. Once, Julie would have been over the moon with joy to see her brother so happy. Now, perhaps because of her tiredness, she thought quite differently.   
“Okay guys,” she said, “I’ll check the library, and you two can check the broom closet.” She said with a tinge of anger. Jack and Chris both looked at her in shock.   
“What’s gotten into you?” said Jack.   
Julie sighed in exhaustion. “Sorry guys, I really didn’t get much sleep last night.” she said.  
“Yeah,” said Jack “it shows.”  
Chris stared at his sister, concerned for her. “Why didn’t you sleep, what kept you up?”   
Julie opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the school bell sounded. BBBBBBBBRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG. “I’ll tell you later.” she said.  
The room quickly flooded with students, and Mr. Solomon was still absent. Julie, Jack, and Chris all took their seats as Owen, looking towards Julie, sat down next to her. “Hey Julie!” he said.  
“Hey Owen.” she groaned, less out of annoyance and more out of sleep deprivation.  
“The hell kept you up all night?” he asked.  
“Is it that obvious?” she said. She had always admired Owen for his honesty. Perhaps it was the way he said things, or perhaps it was his voice, his blue eyes, and his perfect smile. Either way, every girl was lucky to be told bad news from Owen Ashwood. But then again, that was just Julie’s opinion.

Chris had been looking over at his sister with suspicious eyes. “It’s disgusting.” he thought to himself. “Where does a guy like him get off on trying to flirt with Julie? A guy like that probably wants only one thing.”  
“And what’s that?” asked Jack.   
Chris was so caught up in his own mind that he had not realised, he was thinking out loud, again. “Um…” Chris began to stutter. “Hey, I think Mr. Solomon is coming!” he exclaimed, relived from dodging an explanation. But it was not Mr. Solomon who came through the door, but instead Miss Fey, the art teacher, who incidentally, was also a history teacher.  
“Hey guys!” said the young, impish woman. “Mr. Solomon had to call in sick today, so I’m going to be teaching.” Chris, Jack, and Julie all looked toward each other with one question on their minds, “Where is Mr. Solomon?”

After school, the three met up near the library, to possibly find some evidence of where Mr. Solomon was. He was a member of a secret organisation of monster hunters, the chances of him just being out sick, were slim to say the least. “Well, he’s got to be in here.” said Julie.  
“Or maybe, he’s actually just sick.” said Chris. Chris had never been too trusting of his new history teacher, especially since their first encounter outside those very same library doors.  
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” said Jack, as he pushed through the doors.   
“Oh, there you are.” said Mr. Solomon, standing in the middle of the library, sticking his nose into the book of the undying. “I’ve been waiting for you three for ages.” The two boys had to restrain Julie, as she yelled at the school teacher.   
“We have been looking for you all day!” she screamed. Mr. Solomon quickly glanced up from his book, barely looking at her. “Did you try looking in the library?” he asked her. That question had flabbergasted the young girl.  
“N-n-no....” she muttered.  
“Well there you go.” said Mr. Solomon, as he closed the book. He stared at Julie, concerned. “Julie, you look exhausted” he said.   
“I know!” she sputtered.   
“What in God’s name kept you up so late?”  
“Last night I was attacked by that flipping Shadow Demon.”  
The room fell silent. “It attacked you?!” exclaimed Chris. In truth, even Mr. Solomon looked shocked. “H-H-How did you defeat it?” Mr. Solomon asked, with a shaking voice. Julie looked at him, with dark circles under her eyes.   
“Magic, duh” she said. She clearly had neither the time, nor the crayons, to explain the immense amount of power that she had dealt with the previous night. There was a long silence, only broken by the sound of Jack’s laughter.   
“You killed it!” he said, in an ecstatic voice.   
Mr. Solomon corrected him, “I highly doubt it.” he said. “It is probably more likely that she temporarily dispelled the Demon. When a Demon is summoned, it can’t be killed, unless someone managed to kill it while it is in its home dimension. Otherwise, I assume we will be seeing it again.” The joy on Jack’s face quickly faded, as the hope that the Demon had been killed, had vanished.   
“Oh.” he said, despairingly.   
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it though,” said Mr. Solomon. “It may take some time before it can take a physical form again.” Jack looked up towards the older man, only noticing then, how tall Mr. Solomon was compared to him.   
“How long do we have?” he asked. “Long enough for us to get whatever information we can get from the Count.” Mr. Solomon turned to Julie.   
“Julie, In the meantime, can you please refrain from using, um... magic. At least until we know what kind of magic you used on the Tantibus.” Julie nodded her head. In truth, the magic that Julie had used probably frightened her more than the Tantibus did. Mr. Solomon quickly glanced up, with a smile on his face “Oh, I almost forgot.” he said. “I brought this.” Mr. Solomon ran over to his desk, and under a massive pile of books, he pulled a small wooden box. With a symbol of a stylised letter “H” carved on it.   
“So, what’s in the mystery box?” said Chris, staring daggers at the teacher.   
“This is going to get us what we need.” said Mr. Solomon.  
“Well that’s vague” said Chris  
* * *

It had been a long car ride to the Count’s hidden gala, as Jack sent a half-hearted text to his older sister, explaining that he would be spending a couple of hours at Julie’s house to study. Mr. Solomon had said that the Count had employed the use of an incredibly powerful glamour, to disguise the building that he had used for his extravagant parties. He explained that a glamour was a type of light magic that, did not actually change the physical appearance of an object, but instead changed the way an individual would perceive it. Jack however, was less concerned about his lessons in magic, and more about the information the Count had on the Tantibus.  
“It appears we are here” said Mr. Solomon.   
“Finally,” said Jack, “Let’s make the deal and get the Hell out of here.” It was clear that no one present was keen on staying there for long. The neighbourhood and the surrounding area were ‘shady’ at best, with lopsided, poorly constructed apartment blocks. And the residents weren’t that much better. They walked around in circles for what seemed to be hours, twisting down the same alleys again and again, until finally they arrived.  
The building, on the outside, was small and completely unassuming. There was a plain, blue painted door, with an iron slide near the top. Painted on the iron slide, was a small symbol. An ouroboros, a snake eating its own tail, with its body replaced with a long black chain. Above the door, was an engraved wooden sign, with the words ‘The Ninth Circle’ written on it Mr. Solomon walked up to the door and knocked four times. Almost instantly, the iron slide flew open, revealing a pair of glowing green eyes.   
“What do you want?” it said. The voice, Julie thought, wasn’t exactly male, but neither was it female. “Well?” it said again, only slightly less patiently.   
“Umm...” Mr. Solomon was speechless.  
“We don’t like time wasters here. Speak up, or piss off.” Mr. Solomon began to frantically fumble around in his pockets. “Wait... I...um...” He rummaged through his pockets for about a minute before pulling out a small, black card. Once he had revealed the black piece of card, the figure behind the door stood silently, before finally saying, “My apologies. Please come on in.” The blue door slowly creaked open, revealing the building within.  
When the door opened, the first thing the three teenagers noticed was the sheer size of the interior. The room stretched as far as the eye could see. When they looked up, their jaws dropped, as the height of the room was enormous, with nine layers of balconies looking down on the ballroom floor below, and a gigantic glass and chandelier, hanging from an unseen ceiling, and illuminating the entire building. The walls were painted a beautiful crimson red and were decorated with fine velvet curtains. The guests however, were not what they had been expecting.   
A tall and slender woman, with light blue skin, and silky white hair was dancing gracefully upon a table. Her eyes were a pale grey, and glowing. The creature sang, and when she sang it was as if the whole room began to fade and mingle together. It was beautiful.   
A small cluster of Pixies and Nixies danced through the air. One of which was holding two green glowing orbs. “Please accept our most sincere apologies, Mr. Solomon” said one of them.  
A small group of pale skinned individuals, with red eyes, and sharp fangs, were each enjoying a tall glass of ‘the finest wine’. The smell of it made Jack’s stomach growl with hunger. Jack had never met another Vampire before. Well, at least one, whom he could remember. The only other Vampire he had met was his ‘Sire’, and on the night that he was turned, he had hardly given Jack the courtesy of being conscious at the time.  
Seated in a circle, were a small gathering of people, wearing purple satin cloaks, and conversing over a glowing crystal sphere. Above them flew a flaming bird, with wings of a thousand different colours. And in a corner, sat alone, was a dark-skinned man, with glowing amber eyes. Chris had locked eyes with the man, before quickly looking away. He could have sworn he felt something. Was it familiarity, curiosity, kinship? It did not matter at this moment, because the only thing that was important now, was finding the Count.  
The music as thumping through the air, and lights were flashing, beaming down from a giant chandelier.  
The four of them began to split up. Jack and Chris would check the ballroom, as Julie and Mr. Solomon searched up near the balconies. Jack had decided to quench his thirst beforehand, as searching for one of the most powerful immortals in the world, was thirsty work. As he sat down at the bar, he asked the bartender, who was a great faun, to pour him a drink. “What’re you having?” the faun asked. Jack noticed his grey skin, grey eyes, and the fact that one of his horns had been broken off at the stump.   
“A-positive” said Jack. Without delay, the bartender pulled a tall glass of red liquid out from a cooling box underneath the bar.   
Jack’s stomach clenched, as the scent of blood reached his nose. It had been far too long since he last fed. He was overcome with the sudden, uncontrollable urge to drink. He grabbed the glass in one hand, and with red eyes and elongated fangs, he greedily forced the blood down his throat. A trickle of crimson liquid slowly dripped down his chin, as many eyes turned towards him. Jack was aware of the scene he was causing; however, he did not care. The cold, metallic tang of blood tasted divine, as it ran down the back of his throat.  
As the last drop ran down the inside of the glass, Jack had only started to notice the silent eyes, staring at him. He suddenly felt a great weight of the eyes, crushing him. He buried his face into his elbows, as he rested his head on the bar table.   
At the other end of the bar, Chris began to take his seat. He was clearly taking this task more seriously than Jack. Chris was asked what he was going to drink. He glanced up towards a long list of strange sounding drinks.  
“Vampire’s bite”  
“Were-wolfram”  
“My Grey Lady”  
“Bloody Mary (Original recipe)”  
Finally, Chris decided on having “Amazonian tea”. The faun laughed. “Heh-heh, I got you.” He gave Chris a wink as he left. Chris looked somewhat confused, but quickly disregarded him.  
Just then, a young girl, seemingly human, and with blue hair, approached him. “Hey, cutie.” She said. There weren’t many things on this earth that could catch Chris off guard. This was not one of them. “Do you come here often?” she asked him. Chris was speechless. “Umm. I... Umm...” Once again, his face began to turn red.  
“Sorry sweetie, he’s with me.” said a voice, coming from over his shoulder. Chris turned his head, and found Jack, sat directly behind him.   
The blue haired girl shrugged, and said “Shame.” She handed Chris a small card with a phone number on it. “If you ever need help, remember that you can always call us. We Werewolves got to stick together.” She then turned on a pivot, and walked away, with her eyes glowing translucent amber.  
“Thanks for that.” said Chris, looking down at the small piece of paper. He read it, and noticed what had really been handed to him. It was an invitation to join a local Werewolf pack. Surprisingly, they actually gave out invitations.  
“You looked like you were drowning.” said Jack, with a smile on his face. Chris could not have been gladder to see him. At that moment, the faun came out from behind the bar, with a wooden bowl, full of a steaming drink. It was brown and viscus, and lightly resembled curry. Chris gave the bar tender an unsure look, as he reluctantly swallowed the ‘tea’ not wanting to seem impolite. Jack, not wanting to feel left out, had asked for the same.   
“I’ll have what he’s having.” said Jack. The bartender had said nothing before disappearing behind the bar. He quickly left to fetch some more of the liquid that was being passed off as ‘tea’. Almost instantly, he returned with another wooden bowl of the foul-smelling drink. “Enjoy.” He said with a smile.  
Jack quickly downed the ‘tea’, and immediately regretted his decision. He gagged and choked on the liquid, already pushing away the small wooden bowl. “What the Hell kind of tea was that?” said Jack. “I don’t know, but it tastes rancid.” said Chris.   
Jack’s vision began to blur, as he suddenly felt extremely noxious. “Hey, does this taste funny to you?” he said. Chris had also begun to feel its effects. “Yeah, I don’t feel so good.” The two of them dropped to the ground, clutching their stomachs.   
* * *  
Julie and Mr. Solomon had been having much more luck when it came to finding the Count’s office. Mr. Solomon had been obviously uneasy around the strange, brightly coloured people with tall slender builds. “The Aos Sidhe.” He called them. His fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of the wooden box as one of them approached them. The tall, amber haired, green skinned woman seemed to recognise Julie.  
“Julie?” the Aos Sidhe said. It had taken Julie a moment to recognise her soft and kind voice.   
“Miss Fey?!” she exclaimed. Julie was in shock, finding out that her former art teacher was secretly a beautiful Elven woman. Although, it had explained a lot.  
Miss Fey was wearing an elegant silver dress made from the leaves of some strange magical tree. “I love the new look” Julie said cheerily.   
“What are you doing here?” they both exclaimed, simultaneously.  
“We’re looking for the Count.” answered Julie. Miss Fey looked somewhat concerned for her former student’s mental wellbeing. “Are you sure?” she said.  
“Yuh-huh.” Julie said, undeterred.   
“You worry me sometimes, Julie” said Miss Fey.  
“Yuh-huh.” said Julie.  
Reluctantly, Miss Fey pointed toward a small black door, partially hidden behind a black velvet curtain. “He’s just through there.” said Miss Fey. “Oh, and Julie, please be careful, the Count has a reputation.” Her voice dripped with spite and fear when she spoke of the Count.  
“Thanks Miss!” Julie shouted, racing towards the door. Mr. Solomon followed quickly, struggling to keep pace with the younger girl.  
Julie bolted towards the door, only to barely miss being knocked down by the door swinging open.  
“Goodbye Felicia!” proudly exclaimed the tall, crimson haired woman who sauntered through.  
What Julie found most striking about her was not her extremely muscular build, but rather her attire. She wore green leather armour that had been lined with a worn bronze.   
As the giant of a woman walked over Julie, completely unaware of her presence, Julie heard a voice come from the room inside.  
“Close enough!” It said.  
Julie had surmised that it could only have come from one person; the Count.  
Julie quickly rose to her feet, with help from Mr. Solomon, and slowly peered behind the partially closed door just before it shut. She glimpsed the shadow of what appeared to be a bird. “Could the Count turn into a bird?” she thought.  
She wrapped her hand around the handle of the door and carefully turned it. The door creaked as she pushed through, and into his chamber. Its squeaking did nothing to silence her fast-beating heart.


	5. Chapter Five: Perchance to dream

Julie made her way past the old black door, and into the Count’s inner chamber. All of Julie’s preconceived notions of the Count were dashed, as she saw what was once thought to be merely the shadow of a bird flying past her face, revealed to be a shadow given the appearance of a bird.  
Its wings flapped like black paint dissolving in water, as it soared around the room. It encircled Julie, and flew past a ceiling high bookcase filled with ancient tomes, and many quaint and curious volumes of forgotten lore.  
Finally, the shadowy raven landed, perching itself on the shoulder of a man who had been standing in the centre of the room with his back turned to Julie, as he lost himself within the pages of a book.  
When Julie had first envisioned the Count, she had first thought of a sophisticated, gentleman-like individual. The man that had stood before her was anything but.  
The Count had long, dark, wavy hair that fell, down along his shoulders and his back. He had been wearing an even longer, black leather jacket that stopped at the backs of his knees, and was intricately studded, with silver adorning his shoulders. It was clear that it had been worn over the course of many years, and had seen better days. “How disappointing” Julie thought  
When he closed the book, and turned to face Julie, she finally saw his face. Instantly, all her attention was drawn to his eyes, both were coal black where the iris was concerned. His gaze was both captivating and slightly unnerving. His skin was as pale as milk, and his face was perfectly framed by a chin strap beard, that was shaved into two upward points around his chin.   
“Good evening,” he said. “How may I help you?”  
When the Count spoke, his voice was rough, and yet still somehow sounded slightly smooth, and pleasant to the sound. His accent however, was what had usually garnered the most attention. He sounded vaguely English, yet also could have easily been mistaken for being from anywhere in Europe. He also had a habit for putting emphasis on words that didn’t require it.  
Julie had forgotten that Mr. Solomon had followed her into the room. “Good evening.” he said in an exasperated manner. “My name is Mr. Solomon; I believe we spoke over the phone.”   
The Count stared at the whimpering mess of tweed and fear as if he where personally insulted. “Ah, yes. You said something about an ancient artifact?” he said. Mr. Solomon lifted the small wooden case up onto a circular table that had been placed between the two men. The Count raised his eyebrow questioningly, as Mr. Solomon quickly opened the case.  
The Count’s pale face lit up with shock and awe at the sight of the case’s contents. Much to Julie’s surprise, what she saw was an ornately decorated dagger. The metal of the blade appeared to ripple, like a stone being dropped into water. The hilt of the dagger was black and gleaming, with the skull-like face of a Demon placed directly beneath the blade, and two gems of garnet placed to replicate its eyes. The Demon’s horns pointed upwards, forming a small cross guard. “Apophis’s dagger.” the Count whispered.  
The Count’s pet ‘raven’ began to caw wildly at the sight of the cursed blade. “Where- How did you get this?” The Count was in a state of utter disbelief. “This is made of true Damascus steel. Forged in the fires of Hell, and tempered in the blood of a unicorn. Making this is illegal. If this is a forgery of the real Apophis’s dagger, and you made this, we could both be held accountable.”  
“This is the genuine article, I can assure you.” Mr. Solomon said, trying to reassure his customer. Without delay, the Count grabbed the history teacher’s hand, with great delight. “I accept your gift.” He said, cheerily.   
“The deal, Count.” Mr. Solomon ‘gently’ reminded him. “Ah yes, now what was it you wanted exactly?” The Count said. “We need information on how to defeat the Tantibus Demon.” said Mr. Solomon. The Count stared at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.  
“You’re kidding, right?” he said softly. “If one of you summoned a Tantibus Demon, I’d recommend planning your funeral now.” He smirked, and turned away quickly.  
“But we didn’t summon the Tantibus.” Julie spoke up suddenly. The Count looked to her, only now remembering that she was there. “Oh sorry, I never quite caught your name.” he said to her. “Julie Daily.” She replied. “Well then, Juliette, it appears that you are the target of one extremely messed up individual.” The Count made his way over to one of his many ceiling high book-cases. He began to climb a ladder, before stopping to peruse the shelves. He began to mutter to himself. “Let’s see, “decrypting ancient texts”, no.” Julie shared a questioning look with her history teacher, as both were becoming increasingly unsure of the ‘fearsome’ Count.   
“Ah ha!” the Count proudly exclaimed. “Demonology: a study of the supernatural - by Nicholas Flamel.” He placed the old book onto the table, and slowly turned the pages to a summoning ritual for the Tantibus. Everyone in the room peered downward toward the book. Mr. Solomon appeared extremely interested in the text. The Count cleared his throat before speaking. “It says here that once the Tantibus Demon is summoned, it becomes permanently tethered to the man who summoned it.”   
Julie’s heart soared; it may not have been the ideal weapon that would have killed this Demon and given them a quick and happy ending with Jack and Chris walking off into the sunset, but it was a start. “So basically, all we have to do is find the people who summoned the Tantibus, and kill them?” Julie said.   
“Exactly, my dear.” the Count said. “Easy as pie.”   
Julie was overjoyed. “Fantastic!” she exclaimed. “The only problem is that I have no idea how to bake a pie, and we have no idea who summoned the Demon.” It suddenly dawned of her how despairingly hopeless the situation was.   
The Count grinned, “Well, I’m not sure about who summoned the Demon. However, I have an excellent apple pie recipe.” This admittedly drew a laugh out of Julie.   
“My dear, you look absolutely exasperated.” He said. In truth, Julie was embarrassed; surely her tiredness wasn’t that noticeable. Was it? “Here, I’ll get you something for that.”  
In an instant, the Count quickly left and soon returned, holding a green, dragon claw shaped goblet, filled with a steaming brown liquid. He held the goblet out to her. “Here, drink this.” He said.  
Julie took the goblet from his hand. She could feel the heat coming from the brew. Without hesitating, she took a small sip of the warm, brown drink. It tasted incredibly bitter as it made its way down her throat. It took only a second before the potion took effect.  
Instantly, she felt her mind racing with energy. All tiredness she had previously felt had been banished from her body. “Woah,” she said, handing him back the goblet. “What was that?”  
“Its coffee.” said the Count. “I thought it would help.”  
As the Count led Julie towards the door, she turned and coughed, trying to gain the attention of her history teacher, who was far too distracted by the pages of the book that the Count had placed on the table.  
“Ahem.” She coughed again.  
He swiftly raised his head to look at her. “Oh, are we leaving now?” he said. The face that he had made as he asked her, had reminded Julie of a young toddler that she once had to babysit.   
“This way” she said, beckoning him towards the door.  
The second that Julie exited through the door, her shoulder was assaulted by a barrage of panicking patrons. The hustle and bustle of Vampires, and Werewolves, and various species of Aos Sidhe was worrying to say the least. Julie leant over one of the many balconies, to see what all the commotion was over. As she peered over the handrail, she looked down into the circle of creatures. In the centre of the crowd, she saw two boys lying on the floor, unconscious.   
It wasn’t for a few seconds later that she realised who it was that were lying on the floor. “Chris” she gasped.  
Julie, Mr. Solomon, and the Count rushed down the stairs, with the Count sliding down the handrail, trying to get to the dance floor as fast as possible. The Count lunged toward the bar, near where the two boys laid. “Pedro!” he shouted. “What the Hell happened!”   
Pedro, a large grey faun, was speechless. “I-I- I don’t know sir.” He muttered.   
The Count looked at him suspiciously, before sniffing the air. “Pedro, did you serve these underage cryptids ayahuasca?”   
“Cryptids?” Julie thought. “Ayahuasca?” She was sure that the Count was making these words up as he went along. She turned to her history teacher, looking entirely lost.   
“Oh,” he said. “Cryptid is a term used to define any magical, non-human life forms. Like Vampires or Werewolves. And ayahuasca-” The Count interrupted him. “Ayahuasca is a type of mystical drug. It aids cryptids in contacting the astral plane. These two must have gotten a bad batch. It’s perfectly legal, as long as it’s served to people, who are over the age of eighteen.” The Count shot Pedro a furious look. “Pedro, I will speak to you later. In the meantime, we will need to retrieve these two from the astral plane. God only knows what these two were doing with ayahuasca.”   
Julie was in horror. She had to find some way to save her brother, as well as Jack, of course. And God help anyone who gets in her way.   
“So, how do we get them out?” She said, determined. The Count, intrigued by her enthusiasm, had decided the perfect method of retrieving them.  
“What is your relation to these two boys?” The Count asked.  
“Chris is my half-brother, and Jack is an old friend, who kind of sort of dragged me into this.”   
The Count quickly grasped her arm. “Close enough.” He exclaimed.  
Julie had rarely ever used her powers for anything more, than just moving things with her mind. The incident regarding the Tantibus Demon was not withstanding.  
Regardless, she was incredibly ill prepared to attempt astral projection. The Count had described to her exactly how to focus her energies, in order to project into the astral plane, without the aid of ayahuasca.  
“Entering the astral plane is like entering a dream state.” The Count explained. “Once you enter the astral plane you will be entering their dreams. You will bear witness to the full brunt of their subconscious, as well as their past, present, and in some cases their future. Your connection to Chris and Jack makes you the best candidate to enter their minds, as they will show the least amount of resistance to your presence. Astral projection requires a focused amount of light magic, which is drawn from lighter emotions, in this case, tranquillity.”  
It suddenly occurred to Julie, that she had never attempted light magic. Usually when she used magic, she would imagine a burning fire of rage, and that would have fuelled her magic. Little did she know that to become a proper Witch, she would have to conquer her emotions, and learn to control them.  
The entire club had been closed early, due to an ayahuasca mishap. Pedro, the bartender, had been fired as well, due to a similar mishap. The Ninth Circle club was abandoned, and entirely barren. Not to forget Jack and Chris. Julie knelt above the two unconscious boys and began to meditate. She closed her eyes and did as she was told by the Count. “Focus your energies, focus on your feelings, and focus on your friends.”  
In the darkness of her mind, she no longer envisioned the burning inferno. Now she thought of a beautiful, white light. The peace and tranquillity of the light engulfed her, and finally, she let go of reality.

His sister Hazel had been gone for the night to go to fencing practice, and Jack had decided to go for a walk just as the sun was setting. He had said goodbye to his parents for the final time, and walked right out the front door.   
He had been walking his usual rout, through the woods and past the old cemetery. Until he noticed that the sun was setting, and darkness began to engulf the sky. He decided to turn around and double back to head home to his family, until suddenly; he heard a noise coming from deep within the trees, a sound of twigs snapping. A tall dark figure lurked within the branches. Jack bolted into a sprint, his heart was racing and his breath was heavy. Suddenly, everything around him fell to inky blackness, and he fell into unconsciousness.   
When Jack awoke, he found himself unable to move, and unable to scream. The dark, cloaked figure that had hidden itself between the trees was now looming over him, like a beast, ready to lunge and consume its prey. Jack was paralyzed by pure terror. He realised also, that he was not alone with this monster. Surrounding both men were a group of roughly fifty men, each face hidden beneath a blood-red cloak.   
The tall, black hooded figure stared down at him, with cold, gleaming red eyes, and spoke only four words.  
“Drakul shall be reborn.”  
The cloaked figure leaned in close to Jack, and dug its fangs deep into his neck. Once again, Jack fell into darkness.   
He had fallen in and out of states of unconsciousness, before finally waking once more. His bones ached, his head ached, his stomach ached, his teeth ached, and then his eyes began to ache. The headlights burned his eyes as the car approached. “We found him!” exclaimed his father.  
Within the light of the car he saw a figure running towards him. The figure was luminescent, as if it were a being made of pure light, like a candle in the darkness. Surprisingly, looking upon her face did not burn his eyes. “Jack” she said. “It’s time to wake up.” She reached out her hand, and he took it.

 

Chris had been out all night with his slightly estranged father. James Daily had brought back two arms full of fire wood to keep them warm for the rest of the night. However, Chris Daily was less then eager to spend the night in a tent with his father. It had only been a month since he had learned that he was not the son of James and Harmony Daily, but only of James. He had never known his true mother. At night, he would dream of her. What her hair would look like, what her eyes would look like, but he never truly knew.  
The fire crackled and roared as he stared up at the sky, watching the stars, and admiring the fullness of the moon. In the distance, he heard the howling of wolves. His father had long since fallen asleep, but Chris tossed and turned in his sleeping bag, unable to fall into the inky darkness of sleep. The fire had finally died out and he was left alone, surrounded by the sounds of rustling branches, and the fluttering of crows flying through the trees.  
Chris had decided to go for a midnight walk through the old woods, longing for the peace that could only come from solitude. He silently crept passed his father and made his way through the branches, slipping silently between the trees. Eventually he made his way to a small river. How beautiful it was to be far away from everything. Away from his father, away from his sister, away from his mother- or rather ‘Harmony’ as he had taken to calling her. He was completely alone, only with the rippling of the water to keep him company.  
He was in a state of perfect serenity. He sat on top of a nearby rock, and closed his eyes. He sat there in his own personal space of peace and quiet… alone.  
The wolf prowled through the woods. Twigs and branches snapped and crumbled under the weight of its paws. Its mouth was wet and still dripping with the blood of its last kill. The beast’s ears perked as it heard the distant, deep breaths of its next victim.  
Chris was resting on top a rock, watching the water ripple as it quietly crashed against the stones. He finally felt alone. However, when he heard a sudden snap of twigs, he finally realised, he wasn’t alone.  
What occurred next happened faster than he could process. A viscous fury of swiping claws spattered blood across the nearby trees, coating the green leaves red.   
Chris laid lying in a pool of his own blood. It stuck to his skin as it dried. Chris could barely make out the beast, as he tried to look past his blood-stained eyes. For an unknown reason, the large, monstrous wolf, as big as a horse, fled. Leaving Chris alone in the darkness, covered in his own pooling blood. His only thought was of the moon, and how it glistened in the sky. It was just about the only thing he could see.   
“Chris!” a familiar voice called. “Chris, it’s me. We have to go right now!” The voice was distorted, but it was unmistakable who it was. “Julie?” said Chris. “Julie, how-” He couldn’t believe how she could have gotten out here so quickly.  
“Chris, we have to go right now. Please.” Chris couldn’t see her. Everything was so dark. “I – I can’t. This- This isn’t right. You’re not supposed to be here.” he whispered.  
“Chris?” another voice came. This one was deeper, but no less sweet to his ears. “Chris, it’s me, Jack. It’s time to wake up.”  
Chris raised his right hand to the sky, and Jack took it.

The three students woke to the sound of a screeching bird, and seated on a nearby table were the Count and Mr. Solomon, politely sipping tea. “Oh good, you’re all up.” said the Count.   
“What the Hell happened?” asked Chris. “You both ingested a mystical drug and fell unconscious.” said Mr. Solomon, bluntly. “Oh right, I remember now.” said Chris.  
“I had the strangest dream.” said Jack. “You were there, and you were there-.”   
“Yes Jack, we all get the ‘Oz’ reference.” said the Count. “Um… who are you and why did you just cut off my reference?” asked Jack.  
“It’s a long story.” said Julie. “He’s the Count.”  
“Count who?” asked Jack.  
“It’s just the Count.” The older man replied.  
“Uh… right. Nice to meet you.” said Jack. And just as he spoke, the room began to turn. Chris had also begun to feel the effects of ingesting the mystical drug. Jack heaved and started to gag.  
“Someone, get them a bucket!” screamed the Count.


	6. Chapter Six: The after party

The streetlights shone through the window of the Count’s black van, which Mr. Solomon had borrowed to drop the unconscious student’s home. Julie rested her brother’s head against her lap, while Jack laid unconscious in the front seat. The beams of light illuminated her face off and on again.   
The entire world seemed to turn on its side as Jack slowly woke from his dreamless sleep. The first thing he saw when he woke was the glowing reflection of Mr. Solomon’s glasses through the rear-view mirror.  
“Ugh.” he groaned. This sound garnered Julie’s attention.  
“Wakey- wakey sleepy head.” said Julie. Her voice rang like a bell inside of his head.   
He groaned again. “Ugh.”   
“Well, thank you too.” She said. “It’s not every day that someone dives into your drug addled subconscious to save your life.  
“Um, Thanks, I guess.” He said confused. He was swimming in a sea of nausea, however his mind was fixated solely on one thing; his memory. After returning from his dream state, he suddenly remembered the night he was sired. He closed his eyes, and the shrouded face of his Sire, with gleaming red eyes, was permanently etched into his mind. “Who was he?” he thought. Jack never believed in coincidences. But with the sudden resurfacing of his lost memories, he wasn’t so sure anymore. “Did the ‘tea’ he drank have something to do with it?” It was entirely possible.  
The car abruptly ran over a pothole, causing the car to shake, and Jack to nearly loose his breakfast, again. Chris slowly began to open his eyes, trying to wake. “Ugh, what happened?” he said as he tried to get up, only to fail and fall back down into his sister’s lap.  
“It’s a long story, try to get some sleep.” said Julie.  
The car finally slowed to a halt outside the Nightly house. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Mr. Solomon asked Jack. “Yeah, I’ll be fine” he said as he exited the vehicle.   
The black car had already driven out of the driveway when Jack had turned to his front door. He was dreading his sister’s wrath; however, he was feeling so ill, that it scarcely seemed to bother him. He leaned against the handle, trying to turn it, only for his hand to slip and his shoulder to slam into the door. The handle refused to budge. For a moment, Jack woke from his state of mental haze, only to realise his sister’s parting words from the previous night.   
“Tomorrow, I’m going on a trip to New York. I probably won’t be back for a few days. I just thought I should tell you that.”  
He felt terrible. But he still had to find some way inside. As tempting as it was to fall asleep on the pavement, he decided that his bed would be more comfortable. Thankfully, he knew just how to get in. He circled around the house, only stopping to hop over his back-garden fence, and pick himself up after landing on his face.  
He finally came to his bedroom window, left slightly askew. Without much effort, he forced his way through the opening, stumbling as he climbed through the threshold. “So much for Vampires being stealthy” he said out loud, completely unaware that he was speaking the words instead of thinking them.  
As he lifted his blue bed covers, just before he began to climb in, he heard a faint purring. He glanced over to his bulky, old television set, only to see a small grey tabby cat curled up, asleep on top of it.   
“Aw. Tabs.” He said to himself. ‘Tabs’ as the neighbourhood stray had come to be known, was not named because he is a tabby cat, but because of his habit of sneaking around the neighbourhood, and turning up in the most bizarre of places. Bread-bins, broom closets, cupboards, there was nowhere imaginable that he wouldn’t randomly appear. It was a common enough joke that Tabs was a secret agent, quietly gathering information for his mysterious masters, keeping ‘tabs’ on everyone and everything in Ashen-falls. And after the past few days that Jack had the pleasure of experiencing, it no longer seemed so far-fetched.  
Clearly the little ball of mischievous fluff had gotten inside his house through his bedroom window. Jack lifted Tabs up off the television and carried him over to his bed. Tabs however, did not mind this at all. He lied down on his bed, stroking the stray’s black and grey striped back, causing Tabs to let out a deep purr of contentment.  
The cat began to curl up next to Jack, as he pulled the covers over himself. He had missed the fact that animals used to like him. After he was sired, they would avoid him at best, and attack him at worst, leading to a rather traumatic incident involving a squirrel. However, Tabs still loved him, or rather tolerated him and loved his food. But this was enough for him. He felt his eyes growing heavy, and for the first time in a long while, welcomed sleep with open arms. For this moment, he had forgotten about his night terrors of rainy nights, dark figures in pale woods, and glowing red eyes.

* * *  
Thankfully, their mother had fallen fast asleep by the time Chris and Julie had arrived back home. Julie had been struggling under the weight of her semi-conscious brother as they quietly stuck back to their bedrooms up the spiral staircase. The bedroom door creaked as they entered Chris’s blue painted bedroom. The room was relatively well maintained, with Chris’s many sports trophies adorning his shelves.  
Julie had slumped Chris over her shoulder, letting him lean his weight on her. She was clearly struggling. But to be honest she really didn’t mind that much. Chris slowly lowered himself into his bed and pulled the covers over his head.  
“Are you doing alright, Chris?” Julie asked only to get a fatigued groan as a response.   
“Ugh, He probably hates me now.” Her brother muttered under his pile of blankets and pillows.  
“No, he doesn’t, you’re just being paranoid.” said Julie.  
At this point, Julie was given no answer. She leaned down only to discover that her brother had already fallen fast asleep, and was beginning to snore. She turned him over on to his side and tucked him into his bedsheets.  
As she left to close the door, she turned around and switched off the lights. “Good night, Chris.” She quietly whispered to herself, before softly pulling the door closed.  
* * *  
Jack woke early in the morning, long before the sun had risen. But not to the sound that he had expected. The fluffy stray cat that he had discovered on his television last night had completely vanished. In its place, however, stood a shadowy-black raven, perched upon his windowsill.   
The raven’s caw was loud and screeching. So much so that Jack had fallen out of his bed when he had been woken by it. Considering recent events, he had become quite accustomed to the feeling of hitting the ground.  
Held tightly within its right claw was a small, rolled up piece of paper. A letter clearly intended for Jack. The raven cawed once more before dropping the note and taking to the sky.   
Still messy haired, and slightly queasy from the previous night, Jack walked slowly over to his window and picked up the letter before inspecting it.  
Surrounding the note was a thin, red ribbon, sealed with wax and bearing the same insignia of a snake, eating its own tale, with the body being replaced by chains. Jack broke the wax seal and read the scribbled handwriting.

Dear Mr. Jack Nightly,  
Considering recent events, I regret to call on you at this hour of the morning. I ask that you, along with your acquaintances, kindly meet me at the Ninth Circle club as soon as possible. I would not be writing to you if it were not of the upmost importance.  
Regards  
-The Count.  
‘The Count’ Jack thought to himself. He doubted he would ever forget the strange man he had met last night. Especially after the impression he had made. Though slightly skeptical, and wanting any excuse not to go back to Ashen-Falls secondary school, Jack decided that he would visit the Count, and at the very least he would get a chance to properly meet the man who could allegedly put an end to the Tantibus.  
* * *  
Chris’s head was pounding by the time he had woken the next morning. Yet another ‘wonderful’ side effect of drinking mystical, mind melding potions. His mind was racing with images of last night, the blue haired girl, and Jack. Oh God, Jack. What would he think of him now?  
Just then, his ears began to ring with the high-pitched shriek of his sister. He bounded out of his bed and onto his feet, and sprinted into Julie’s bedroom. Much to his surprise however, he found her still in bed, and screaming at a raven that had flown through her window and landed on her bed.  
“Aaaaahhh! It’s a Bird!” She screamed. Chris walked slowly over to her. “Yeah, I noticed.” He said. Chris began to approach the raven quietly, noticing a small letter in its claws.   
“What’s that?” Julie asked, suddenly having calmed down. “It looks like a letter.” Said Chris. Julie had finally gathered up enough courage to inch towards the ebony bird, before quickly snatching the letter from it. “What does it say?” Chris asked. Julie quietly read it to herself before looking up to her brother. “Chris, get ready. We’re going out.”  
“It’s five in the morning.”  
“We’re going out.”  
* * *   
The sun had finally risen, and was shining down on the streets of Ashen-falls, and Jack Nightly had found it more unbearable than usual. Thankfully he had not forgotten his trusty sunglasses, which had on many occasions, helped shield his eyes from the sunlight. He had tried his best to follow the path he had traveled yesterday and yet, again and again, he had found himself going in circles, around the same handful of buildings.  
“Hey Jack” called a voice from behind him. He turned around and found the familiar sight of Chris and Julie.  
“Hey, guys!” he said. “What’re you doing here?” Chris pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and showed it to him.  
“We got this letter this morning,” he said. “From a-”  
“A raven?” Jack said, taking his own letter out of his pocket. “I got this one a couple of hours ago,” The two smiled at each other briefly before drawing their attention to Julie.   
“Uh, guys?” she said, gazing upward towards the sky. Before anyone could react, a small black shadow flew past their faces, cawing. The raven swooped and landed gracefully on a nearby window ledge. It cawed once more, as if beckoning them to follow. Once again it flew past them and dived into a nearby alleyway. The three looked at each other, all recognising the raven, all thinking the same thought. All at once, they sprinted after the bird, giving chase.  
However, just as they turned the corner they came outside a tall circular, ramshackle mess of a building, with nine distinct layers stacked on top of each other. The raven stood outside the doorway to the building, waiting for them to follow. The three slowly approached the bird only for it to fly up the side of the building, and through an open window near the top floor.  
Julie quietly walked forward, slowly pushing open the door. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” said Chris, nervously.   
“I see what you mean,” said Jack, “There’s no way that building is up to the town’s health and safety regulations. The architecture alone-” He paused for a moment and began to wonder. “Where’s Julie?” he whispered. At that moment, Chris’s eyes shot open, and to Jack’s amusement, turned that beautiful shade of gold. Chris burst through the door after his sister.  
“Julie!” he called out, but he heard no one. Jack quickly ran up behind him. “Where is she?” Chris yelled in a panic.   
“How should I know? I just got here.” said Jack.  
“I wasn’t talking to you.” said Chris.  
Before Jack could ask who it was that Chris was talking with, he heard a high-pitched shriek coming from upstairs. “Julie!” both boys exclaimed. Almost immediately, the two sprinted up the spiral stairs of the now empty nightclub.   
As they reached the ninth floor, they heard voices coming from behind a black velvet curtain. They pulled back the curtains and pushed through a small blue door to discover Julie, laughing and playing with the small black raven from earlier, with the raven peacefully perched on her shoulder.   
“I told you he wasn’t that bad” said a voice coming from the corner of the room. A tall man with long, black hair stood up from behind a desk. “Oh good, we were just waiting for you” he said.   
Julie quickly placed the raven back into its cage. “Guys, this is the Count. You remember him from last night, right?” Chris slowly approached him. “Hi my name’s-”  
“Chris Daily, I know.” The Count interrupted. “The Werewolf.” He turned his eyes over to Jack with curious intent. “And the Vampire. I have heard a lot about you.” Chris glanced over at Jack, not knowing what to say. “I must apologise for bringing you all here on such short notice. Especially on a school day, however I believe this will be much more educational than that tripe they will try and teach you” He slowly took his place back behind his desk.   
“Before we begin,” Jack said. “What the hell?” The Count paused and raised his eyebrow.  
“Ah yes!” he said. “The glamour, I assume? A little white magic parlour trick. Devised to trick unwanted party guests.”  
Jack still looked confused. “No, I mean sending us messages via raven. Haven’t you ever heard of text message?” At this, the Count let out a slight chuckle.  
“Again, you must forgive me. When it comes to matters such as these, Poe and I can be quite sentimental.” The Count whistled once, and Poe flew out of his cage and landed on the desk in front of them. “Say hello, Poe” said The Count. Poe cawed once at Jack. “Now if you all will take a seat.” And with that, three ornately engraved chairs materialised from the ground. After all the horrible things that they had seen in the past few days, this hardly seemed to faze them. They all took their seats without making a sound.  
“Now,” The Count spoke, “I believe it is already far too late to explain to you all, how borderline suicidal it would be to try and kill a Tantibus Demon. However, I also believe in the philosophy of ‘not waiting around to be slaughtered like cattle by a Shadow-Demon.’ So, I have brought you three here to show you what I have been researching.” With that, The Count rose from his seat and made his way over to a black Iron door. He took a small key out from a pocket in his leather jacket, and began to unlock the door. “Are you coming?” He asked, waving his hand as if to beckon them inside.  
“If we die, I swear to God I will come back as a ghost and haunt each of you for the rest of your lives.” Chris said stubbornly.  
“That’s one Hell of a commitment.” said Jack, with a smirk on his face. Chris sighed as he finally relented, and made his way through the door.  
When they entered, the first thing that caught their eyes was an enormous tapestry. It took up most of the wall, stretching from one end of the room to the other. Once they looked away, they quickly found that the rest of the room, while enormous, was mostly buried under a mountain of clutter. “I would recommend not touching anything that looks vaguely demonic,” said the Count, “We wouldn’t want another Demon wreaking havoc around town.” It was difficult to tell whether or not he was joking. However, just in case he was being serious, they decided to take his advice.   
“What’s this?” Julie asked, pointing toward the tapestry.   
“That is the Dragon’s tapestry.” said the Count. Much to Julie’s delight, the tapestry did in fact; depict a dragon, among other things.   
“This being the dragon?” asked Chris.  
“No,” said the Count. “That is technically a Wyvern, a creature often mistaken for a Dragon. If you see here, the creature depicted in the tapestry has two legs. Dragons on the other hand, have four.”   
“Well, this is very fascinating. But is this what you brought us all the way over here for?” said Jack.   
“Yes. This is exactly what I brought you all here for,” The Count said, with an air of arrogance. Jack looked over to the tapestry, seeing its strange depictions. From end to end, the tapestry told of a war. But one figure stood out to Jack. The image was still clear in his mind.  
“The Tantibus.” He whispered.  
On the tapestry, the demon was seen shoving his arm into the back of an unknown woman. But Jack knew exactly who it was. “Miss Lear?”  
“You know her?” the Count said, with a suspiciously curious look on his face.   
“She is… Was my Chemistry teacher.” The Count looked slightly remorseful.   
“My condolences.” He said.  
“How you know she was dead?” Jack asked. The Count walked slowly over to the tapestry.  
“This tapestry was woven over a century ago, by a circle of Witches specialising in divination and prophecy. It tells of a great and terrible war, which was said to cost the lives of countless innocents. A future, long since forgotten.” His voice was sullen and quiet. He looked over to the image of the woman. “The first casualty.”   
As the three looked over the tapestry, what they say shook them to the core.  
A woman, killed by a shadow. An Angel descending from the Heavens, holding a flaming sword. A burning stone. A Dragon breathing fire. An army of shuffling corpses, followed closely by a tall, cloaked figure, with a monstrous face, sitting on a throne of skulls.   
Jack stared at the figure. Its rows of razor sharp fangs, its skeletal body, and its piercing red eyes.


End file.
